


I Don't Mind You Being Masterful

by Dusty



Category: As Time Goes By
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hot Sex, Smut, mild spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from season 8 episode 3: The Bathroom. Lionel had walked in on Sandy in the bath. Jean over-reacted to Sandy being in that position. Lionel calls her on it. He can't call her young and pretty, but he'll be damned if he doesn't show her the ways in which she's beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Mind You Being Masterful

**Author's Note:**

> Lionel is also a little bit old school with making his points..

He had sat her down and poured them both a glass of wine. He’d never really seen her like that. Neurotic, yes, a bit childish perhaps, but to be so cold towards Sandy was something else. Jean was always unfailingly kind – far more so than he. She was beautiful that way. So he determined to get to the bottom of it, avoiding a row if possible, while not standing for anymore nonsense.

He fixed her with a stern look. “Now what was this earlier about you being a fool?”

“Well I am.”

“No you’re not,” he said firmly. “You’re fool _ish_ sometimes, but never a fool.”

She sighed. “I know it’s irrational, but I keep thinking what would have happened if I’d been in the bath. What would you have done?”

“Well, I’d have said ‘hello’,” he mused sweetly. “Then I’d have sat on the edge of the bath and had a chat.”

“Yes, exactly,” she said sadly.

“Well there’s nothing wrong in that.”

“No I know but what if it’d been years ago when I was young?”

He grinned wickedly. “I’d have torn all my clothes off and jumped in with you,” he said.

She looked at him adoringly, but the same sadness staying with her. “That’s what I mean.”

Lionel looked at her hard. “Now look, I did not consider doing that with Sandy.”

“No I know you didn’t,” she murmured into her wine.

He frowned, no longer sure what either them were driving at. “Sometimes, I think we need a translator.”

“No we don’t need a translator, it’s just me. I suppose I’m jealous.”

“Yeah, but we’ve just agreed…”

“Not of you, of Sandy. And Judy for that matter.”

He sighed, feeling even more out of his depth. “I shan’t say anything. I shall just nod.”

“No, but look at them! They’re young and they’re pretty and they’re here as a constant reminder. And you’re here. And you’re only a man, after all.”

“I’m not nodding at that,” he grumbled, lapsing into a scowl. “What do you mean only a man?”

“Well don’t tell me you never notice them!”

“Well of course I notice them,” he said impatiently.

“Well there you are then.”

“There I am where?”

She simply shook her head and looked down, defeated.

He was getting tired of it. “Well,” he declared. “Chuck them both out, then.”

“What?”

“I can’t see any other solution.”

“Well we don’t need a solution because there isn’t really a problem. It’s just me.”

He studied her for a mere moment, knowing exactly now what she was after.

“Well,” he said. “With the best will in the world I can’t honestly say that you’re young and pretty too…”

“No I know that.”

“But I think you’re beautiful.”

She looked up, doubting she’d heard him right. “What?”

“I said, ‘you’re beautiful’.”

Her eyes widened. “Have you had a few of those light ales before we started on the wine?” she quipped.

He ignored her. “It’s how I see you. You were beautiful when we met and you always will be. It’s nothing to do with a few wrinkles and an extra pound or two…”

“Or two?” she questioned indignantly.

He ignored her again. “It’s what you are… it’s what you mean…it’s…” he sighed, exasperated by his lack of eloquence. “I’m not putting this very well, I’m I?”

She gazed at him in wonder, all of her wretched insecurity evaporating on the spot. “Oh it’ll do very well, Lionel,” she said softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “It’ll do very well.” She stroked his hand with her thumb.

He gazed back at her. “I think we’ll leave the washing up.”

“I was just going to suggest that myself.”

They smiled at each other knowingly and got up from the table, heading for the doorway. Something occurred to Jean and she turned around to challenge him. “So how often am I foolish?”

He gave her a warning look and motioned her out of the door. She obliged with a cheeky grin.

As they walked past the living room they noticed that Sandy, Judy and Alastair had gone out and given them their privacy.

“Convenient,” mumbled Lionel. Jean’s eyes flashed at him coquettishly as she started climbing the stairs. “Yes it is rather.” She turned and kissed him on the lips.

“Up,” ordered Lionel. “Don’t waste time.”

She frowned, half obeying by continuing up the stairs and half disobeying by turning around to glare at him. He followed behind, unyielding.

“You’re not going to be all masterful again, are you?” she asked haughtily.

He spoke evenly, still ushering her upstairs. “After the way you’ve behaved today you’d be _foolish_ to expect anything else.”

“Oh, Lionel,” she intoned.

“Bedroom,” he commanded, and she tried to convince herself it hadn’t made her go weak at the knees.

He followed her into the bedroom and slammed the door behind them, then caught her arm and pushed her passionately back into the closed door.

He kissed her hard, his tongue practically down her throat, almost smothering her in his arms. She moaned into his mouth, feeling him harden as he rolled his hips against her. It was just right, and for a moment she thought they were going to do it against the door. They did do that once. In Marlow.

He pressed harder against her with a growl, and she gasped for air. Was she going to come just from this delicious friction? But he suddenly stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving her cold and breathless by the door.

He regarded her silently for a moment while his eyes fixed on her. “Now, you’ve been very silly today,” he said sternly, now apparently in full control of himself. “I want you to understand how silly. I fully intend to remind you of how beautiful you are and what you, and your body, do to me. But first I want you to promise me you won’t ever treat Sandy that way again.”

Jean swallowed. Her face flushed as she stood squirming in front of him. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off.

“You made her feel unwelcome to the point she felt she had to move out. This is a woman you’ve included as a daughter in your family, you’ve even expressed it to her before, and you let something this ridiculous come between you.”

“I apologised!” said Jean.

“Not good enough,” he scolded, and she flinched. But she wasn’t feeling any less aroused by his demeanour. Her heart was racing. He only had eyes for her. How could she ever doubt that? She trembled, knowing she was all his now.

“She’s either a daughter to you or she isn’t,” he continued to tell her off.  “You don’t band about that kind of sentiment and then retract it when you’re having a bad day. That wasn’t foolish, that was unkind.”

Her breath hitched. “Oh Lionel!” she whimpered, crestfallen.

“Now that is not the Jean I know, and it’s not the Jean I expect, and just to make sure you remember that I want you to come here and bend over my knee.”

Her jaw dropped as he patted his lap. “Lionel, you can’t…” she said weakly.

“I said come here.” He tone was soft but uncompromising. She gaped at him.

“ _Jean_ ,” he warned.

She felt like she might burst into flames. Or disintegrate completely. She felt ashamed of her behaviour, but it wasn’t for Lionel to discipline her. And yet the damp heat in her groin was betraying a hunger to give into him. He’d given her the occasional love tap here and there, and vice versa, but this was… _humiliating_.  She shuffled forwards a little until he could reach her, and then let him pull her by the wrist until she was standing between his legs.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get this over with so we can get to the best part.” Then without warning he quickly ran a finger up between her legs and over her sex as a sample of what was to come. She almost collapsed onto him, the jolt of pleasure taking her by surprise, and he used that momentum to pull her across his knee.

She squealed, flopping over his lap and onto the bedspread. “Oh!”

He held her in place with one hand and brought the other down on the seat of her trousers. She gasped. He was spanking her. He was actually doing it. He did it again, and again, and again.

She was determined not cry out and wriggled instead, shifting her assaulted bottom away from him. “Lionel!”

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he warned, punctuating each word with a smack and holding her all the tighter. “Keep still.”

As she gasped into the duvet she realised he wasn’t spanking her all that hard, just landing a succession of firm swats that evoked shame rather than pain. She was breathing hard, reacting only in breathy cries. She felt ridiculous, but also that she might melt into him forever and ever. She let her body fall limp and allowed him to punish her, pouting furiously into the bedclothes. She was just as upset with herself as he was with her.

“See how _you_ like to be humiliated,” he chided, fully making his point now. He gave her another half a dozen sound slaps, before gently rubbing her buttocks, burning as they were through the material.

“Beautiful bottom,” he said with a firm pat. “Good place to start.”

She sniffed quietly and he took to rubbing her back as well. “There, there,” he comforted. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She grunted into the covers as reply.

He smiled slyly, then slipped his hand underneath her and between her legs, rubbing her heat. She bucked. He leant forward and kissed her neck. “Should have done this years ago,” he whispered.

“Shut up,” she muttered between groaning and grinding. He undid her trousers, pealing them off and revealing a rather pink rear.

“Are you going to be good now?” he teased, rubbing circles on her abused flesh.

“No,” came her muffled insolence, swiftly followed by a throaty giggle.

“Right,” he said, giving her three sharp smacks on her bare bottom. She shrieked but laughed, one hand shooting back to protect herself, but he’d already moved on. His hand slipped back to her wet opening and he began to stroke her soft folds.

“Lionel,” she murmured. “Oh Lionel… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He smiled. “There you are,” his said. “My beautiful Jean.” He couldn’t punish her anymore. Instead, he gently massaged her as she writhed on his lap, his fingers getting deeper and deeper. She was more and more breathless, more and more lost, and he knew he could make her come just like this, a relentless, gentle motion, always once she’d let go of her thoughts.

“ _Oh, oh, oh_ ,” she gasped, panic growing as she felt herself shuddering into pieces. He held her tight on his lap, firmly administering friction and pressure, her body humping his thighs wildly. She tensed and bucked, coming with a raw shout and quaking as the pleasure coursed through her.

He scooped her up before she could go completely limp and threw her back on the bed, fully tugging off her shoes, trousers and knickers, then pushing her knees up. His mouth was immediately on her, lapping up everything he’d elicited with his artful fingers. She arched off the bed, panting, her fingers instantly entwined in his hair. He rubbed himself against the mattress.

He kissed her vulva passionately, his tongue gracing every bit of her, before raising his head to fix her with a look.

“This is beautiful,” he said with an impish grin. She was trembling too much to say anything. His eyes turned dark with lust as he returned to nuzzling and licking her out, his tongue flicking her clitoris. She keened, pulling his hair. He left her groin and shifted further up her body. His fingers curled threateningly around the buttons of her shirt.

“And as for tearing my clothes off,” he growled. She gasped, eyes wide, knowing what he was going to do. With a terrible rip, he tore her shirt apart, revealing her bra and quivering breasts. She rutted in response, desperate for contact. He pulled the torn clothing off and covered a lace-encased nipple with his hot mouth. She groaned deeply, her nipple hardening almost painfully. He moved his mouth to the other nipple and did the same.

“Lionel,” she breathed. He sat up and pulled his own shirt off, slightly more diligently, which earned him a scorned glare, and then his hands fumbled with his belt.

“Lionel,” she breathed again, hips pushing upwards towards him.

“Don’t be greedy,” he scolded, neglecting his fly and leaning back over her for a kiss. His hands spread over her breasts as he did so. “These are beautiful,” he rasped as he fondled and massaged them, fingers slipping into her bra. His mouth returned to take in as much of her bosom as possible. He then trailed kisses up to her throat.

She moaned softly; still rocking, still needing. “And this is one of the most absolutely beautiful things about you,” he said. His hot, wet lips found her neck, his breath tickling and his tongue teasing. Her hands went to her own heat as she forgot herself, her own fingers invading, desperate for attention.

“Tsk tsk,” he smirked, removing one hand and slapping her wrist. “So beautifully naughty. So delightfully mischievous,” he crooned.

She giggled.

“ _My bad girl_.” He gave her a look of pure mischief and she shivered. “I know what you need,” he said.

He deftly manoeuvred her onto all fours and unsnapped her bra. It was thrown casually across the room, hitting the wardrobe door.

“Thank you for not ripping that,” she said sarcastically. She was rewarded with another light smack on the bottom.

She almost stopped breathing as she heard him remove his belt and unfasten his trousers. The bed swayed as he undressed invisibly behind her. She leaned down, head in her arms, hips up and poised for him to take her. To fuck her.

Next thing she knew, two fingers were sliding inside her, coated in a small amount of lube. And then it happened quite without warning. One rough grunt and he was buried inside her. It felt like she was half taken up by him. Only his hands gave him away, trembling as they were as he gripped her hips. He pulled out, then slammed back in again. They fell into a rhythm, gasping and moaning together.

“You always were especially beautiful in this position,” he panted with a smirk.

“You bugger!” she cried out, but he simply thrust harder to make a point. He rubbed her back again. “Beautiful back,” he drawled. He didn’t rush, both of them relishing the position.

He leaned over her and his hands snaked underneath to grab her swinging breasts.

She gave guttural groan that almost undid him.

He focused. “Such a beautiful voice, I always think,” he added, trying to keep his own voice steady. “When I fuck you like this, you sound glorious.”

“ _Lionel_ ,” she mewled. Her noises were escalating in speed and volume, and he felt them both start to lose it. He slowed, then slipped out and flipped her on her back. She cried out as he slid back in, now on top of her. She embraced him with her body.

“But your face,” he panted, gently thrusting. “I love your face. _Particularly_ beautiful.”

His voice wavered as his body began to take over. He scooped one arm underneath her neck while lifting her leg with the other. It was time to finish his lesson. He breathed hot in her ear. “And I love _you_ , because you are beautiful in every way.” 

At just the right angle – her very favourite one in fact, he pounded into her relentlessly as she screamed out beneath him, her hands clutching at him and pulling him in deeper. He prayed the others hadn’t returned but was immediately past caring as he felt their release hit them at the same time. God he loved that about her.

They came hard, her squeezing him dry as he emptied himself inside her.

He tried not to collapse on top of her, instead falling to one side, both of them sprawled wantonly and devastated next to each other. His hand found hers and he clasped it warmly.

After they’d remembered how to breathe, they spontaneously turned to one another for a cuddle, Lionel covering her in sweet kisses. “Have you learned your lesson, my little Pooh?”

She looked at him adoringly. “Yes,” she said. “I think I’ve learned it for good.”

“Oh,” he said, downhearted. “That’s a shame. I thought you might need regular schooling…”

Her laugh was deliciously filthy as he reached out and turned off the light.


End file.
